To Meddle With Fate
by hgwriter123
Summary: Katniss Everdeen is safe at last. But she has lost so much, and her losses can never be undone. Through the eyes of a fortune teller, she witnesses the beginning of what would have been if a major event had never happened - and how it would have changed the lives of 24 children... T for language.
1. Remembrance Can Be a Dangerous Thing

Chapter 1

Remembrance Can Be a Dangerous Thing

KATNISS

I'm alone in the house, with just my thoughts to keep me company. Peeta has gone to collect Rose and Jay from school, which is a few minutes away from here. They rebuilt the school (as well as most of the other shops and buildings in District 12, including the Hob) not long after it was blown to pieces by the firebombs. That was a long time ago, though. Another place, a place for the worst.

No, Katniss, you must stop thinking about that time. And you must stop thinking about the time before that time. A time where you and Gale went hunting in the woods for food to keep your families alive. Where the Hunger Games was blossoming like never before, seventy-four years of children's gruesome deaths having passed-

"No!" I shout, my voice vibrating off the walls. No. Hold it together, Katniss. You must stay strong.

I haven't spoken to Gale in over twenty years. Last I heard, he was happily married with kids in District 2. I don't want to speak to him - he, whose firebomb killed Prim, my sister-

No. It wasn't Gale. They never found out whose firebomb killed her. Prim. It could have been any of the blasted District 13 soldiers. But they didn't care. It could have been Coin who killed my sister, and they still didn't care.

I want to hurt them, angers rises up my throat like bile. Hurt them like they hurt my sister. I want to hurt Coin beyond belief. But no - Coin is dead. Snow is dead. They're all dead!

Hold it together, Katniss. Stay strong. Remember the song, the song your children love so deeply.

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow,_

That's right Katniss. Remember the song.

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,_

My eyes begin to drift. I can see the Meadow, the one outside District 12, in my mind.

_Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes-_

_"No, Katniss! No! You can't go!"_

_"Prim, let go!"_

My eyes fly open, and the memories flood my mind. Effie Trinket calling out Prim's name at the Reaping. Glimmer's bloated flesh disintegrating in my hand. Holding Rue in my arms as she dies. Clove cutting my forehead with her knife. Cato getting torn to pieces by the wolf mutts. Snow annoucing the rules for the Quarter Quell. Gale's whipped back. Beetee showing me the force field. Mags running into the death-fog. Wiress' slit throat. The arena exploding. Coin's face at the many meetings. Annie and Finnick holding hands. Johanna screaming. Boggs' final message. Finnick getting torn to pieces by the reptile mutts. Prim on fire...

I can remember everything.

However, I can also remember the good things. The moment where I won my first Hunger Games, with Peeta at my side. Twill and Bonnie's faces when I gave them all that food in the woods. My mother singing. Prim giggling. Gale and I hunting. The picture of Annie and Finnick's baby. The kiss with Gale. The kisses with Peeta. Peeta baking. Peeta painting. Peeta laughing.

And I smile. Because it's these memories, these wonderful memories, that keep me going. And the life of my children. Rose and Jay. And Peeta. Without them, my life would not be complete.

And I can now understand the last few lines of the first verse of that song. The song that Prim loved. The song that my children love.

_And when again they open, the sun will rise._


	2. Pictures and Glass Eyeballs

Chapter 2

Pictures and Glass Eyeballs

"Mommy! Mommy!"

I snap out of my trance, just in time to hear the front door slam shut. Jay comes running in, dumping his school bag onto the floor. I scoop him up and sit him on my lap, where he sits giggling.

"How was school today?" I ask.

"Good," he replies. Then his face lights up. "I have a picture to show you,"

"Oh really?"

Jay nods, before jumping down and grabbing his school bag. Rose walks in and sits down on the couch opposite my chair, before switching on the T.V. Peeta takes a seat next to her, and tries to take the remote of her playfully. Jay comes back with a piece of paper, and I hoist him back up onto my lap.

"Let me see," I say. The picture is actually really good, better than any other five-year-old can do. But I expected this - Jay inherited Peeta's art skills, whilst Rose inherited his baking skills. Rose also inherited my stubborness, but also my skills with a bow and arrow. Jay only inherited my grey eyes, which all people from the Seam have.

"Whose this?" I ask, pointing to one of the figures.

"That's Daddy," Jay says, before pointing to another figure. "That's Rose, and that's you!"

I frown. "And, why do I have a purple sad face?"

"Because I ran out of red," Jay says, and then a little sheepishly. "And because your always sad,"

Peeta snorts, and I glare at him. "What, it's true," he says, defensively, but he's grinning. And then I smile too. Maybe I am sad all the time, but who wouldn't be if they have two Hunger Games under their belts, and watched thousands of people die?

"Go on," I say, pushing Jay gently off my lap. "Go off and do whatever it is you usually do,"

Thousands of people die. Thousands of people died. Possibly more. I can't really remember, right now - all I can see is Prim on fire. I watch Jay run off, deep in my thoughts of dead tributes and Mockingjays. Jays. Jay.

My breathing quickens. Peeta senses that something is wrong, for he gets up and touches my arm gently.

"Katniss?" he asks, softly. "Katniss, are you alright?"

Katniss. Katniss, Katniss, Katniss.

"I need some air," I say, and without another word I run into the hallway. I don't remember putting on my shoes, but I must have, for the next thing I know I'm running down the lane in the Victors Village in my boots. I know Peeta has the sense not to follow me, and I'm grateful that he understands me so well. I need to be alone.

Prim. Rue. Peeta. Gale. Rose. Jay. Primrose.

I decide in that moment that I want to go and visit Prim's grave. I don't know why, I just want to. I haven't been there in a while - remembering Prim brings back painful memories. But I have to go now. I have to.

They recovered Prim's body quite a while after the fire bomb attack, at my request. It seemed that she burned to death, like so many other helpless doctors and nurses that were sent out onto the battlefield. They asked me I would like to bury her - the first thing that came into my head was the Meadow, and that what they stuck with. On the edge of the Meadow.

I reach the grave in good time. Peeta sometimes takes Rose and Jay to visit the grave, but I never go with them. The flowers Peeta planted for me are still here, blooming in the summer sun. Primroses. The flower she was named after. I stare at the flowers for a while, and I have the sudden urge to pull them out and crunch them up. But I couldn't. I could never hurt anything related to Prim.

I sink down onto my knees. "Oh Prim," I say, then I let the silence flow over me, taking all the anger and remorse with it. I play that little game that I've been doing for twenty years, thinking about all the good things I've seen anyone do. And it works.

It takes me a while to look up and see her standing there. She wears a long, dark coat which covers her whole body. She looks old - really old, as her grey hair is plastered to her face. For a moment, I think it's Mags, but then I dismiss the thought. For one thing, Mags is dead. And I also see her eyes. Well, her eye. Where her left eye should be, there's just a glass ball, that shines in the sun's rays.

I feel like the glass eye is watching me, and I don't like it. I wait for her to go away, to leave me to mourn my dead sister. But she doesn't. She just looks at me, before saying two words.

"Katniss Everdeen?"


	3. The Fortune Teller Knows All

Chapter 3

The Fortune Teller Knows All

I freeze in my crouching position, staring up at the old woman. Sure, she knows my name - lots of people do, since I am a major part of Panem's history. I managed to convince Jay that people know me from an archery show on T.V. Rose knows that I was in the Hunger Games, but not that I killed (sometimes not personally, but because of my actions) hundreds, maybe thousands of people. I presume this woman has just got lost and is trying to find her way back to her house.

"Or should I say, Katniss Mellark," she continues. Her voice is slightly croaky, typical of an old person, but it also sounds quite young at the same time. If that's possible.

She walks with sharp steps over to the grave, standing next to me. Her real eye scans the writing on the grave.

"Primrose Everdeen," she reads. "Died helping the injured during the Mockingjay War,"

That's what they call it now. The Mockingjay War. The war which Peeta and I created. The old woman bends down towards the flowers - at first I think she's admiring them, but she then pulls off one of the primroses' heads gently.

"Hey!" I shout, standing up. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, sorry," the woman says, putting the flower in her coat pocket. "Primroses are very valuable. Couldn't pass up the opportunity,"

I'm not impressed with this woman. In fact, I'm angry at her. Who does she think she is, pulling off one of the flowers on my little sister's grave?

"How are Rose and Jay?" she asks.

I stop in my tracks. What did she say? My children's names. Rose and Jay. But... how could she know them? I've never seen, let alone spoken, to this woman in my life! I don't think she's a teacher at the school - why would they let an eighty, possibly older woman teach there?

"How do you know my children's names?" I ask quietly.

"Oh," the woman laughs. "I know lots about you. Where and when you were born, where you lived, who your brother's and sister's were, who your parents were," She grins, and I see she's missing a few teeth. "But, then again, I know lots about everybody!"

This woman is mad. Bonkers. She must be from the hospital - yes, from the mentally unstable ward. Trust me, they have one of those there. She must have escaped from the hospital when the staff weren't looking. Should I run and find the Peacekeepers?

"Who are you?" Is all I say. The woman's smile widens.

"I'm a soothsayer," she replies.

"What?" I say. I heard her perfectly well - it's just that I've never heard of a soothsayer being seen in District 12. If she is one, maybe she works undercover or something. No, Katniss, she's from the mental ward!

"A soothsayer. A fortune teller. You can call me whatever you like. But my job is the same - I can see into the future. Your future, for that matter," She steps towards me. "But I can do much more, though. More than any other soothsayer can do,"

"Like what?" I say. I don't know what I'm doing - I think I'm keeping her talking, so I can surprise her by turning and running home. But, I have to admit, I am interested by what she has to say.

The woman's smile stretches so far I'm sure her face is going to split in two. "Follow me, and I'll show you. Usually I charge people, but I can sense your a special young lady, so I'll make an exception,"

This has trap written all over it. This is totally bazaar - why would this woman have any reason to be talking to me? I should go back and tell Peeta, then he can go to the Peacekeepers. Actually, I should go to the Peacekeepers.

No, Katniss, _what are you doing?_ Why are you following her? Turn around!

But I can't turn around - my legs won't let me. It's like they're programmed to follow this woman, and this woman alone. She leads me to a wooden hut, which is on the outskirts of the Meadow, not far from Prim's grave. I've never noticed this hut before. Maybe it's new. Oh, how I want to run so badly. But I can't!

The old woman opens the door for me, and I walk in. She follows, and as soon as she shuts the door, the feeling comes back into my legs. I can move them by myself again. Hallelujah!

"Have a seat," she says, and not wanting to be rude, I sit on one of the wooden chairs. It's carved out of oak wood, and is in front of a table covered in purple cloth. On that table is a glass sphere on a stand, which is like an enlargened version of the old woman's glass eyeball. The interior of the hut is decorated in rich cloths of many coloured, each one embroided with weird shapes and patterns of stars and moons and suns. There's an old wardrobe in one of the corners (which is also made of oak wood), and a bed is propped up against the wall.

How stereotypical.

The old woman takes the seat on the other side of the table. She smiles at me again (it's starting to freak me out, how much this woman smiles) and taps the glass sphere with a wrinkled finger. The grey ball begins to fill with mirky mist, which you can see clearly against the the cool glass.

"Now," the old woman says. "You asked me what else I can do, other than tell the future? Well, I can tell what you have done, in other words, the past,"

"You must be joking," I say, because someone being able to tell the future is weird in my book. Being able to tell the past is crazy!

"No," she laughs. "This is one-hundred percent truth. Although, there are limits to this gift. I can only see the memories of other people I have seen myself. Or if they tell me a part of the memory. You understand?"

"Yes," I lie.

"Good," she says. "Now, I'll start with one of your memories," She holds the glass sphere in both hands. "Katniss Everdeen slash Mellark, Reaping of the 74th Annual Hunger Games,"

I'm not prepared for this. Before I can object, the mist begins to swirl even faster, so fast that it is a blur to my eyes. I stare at it intensely, whishing it would stop as it's making me dizzy. Then a picture begins to form.

"Look into the ball,"

I do what the old woman says without hesitation, and I see everything.

Memories flood back when I see the old square in District 12 - see the lines upon lines of twelve to eighteen year-olds, the older ones at the front and the younger ones at the back. It doesn't take long for me to spot myself, in amongst a bunch of other sixteen-year-olds. My hair is braided up my head, and I'm wearing a blue dress that must have belonged to my mother. I remember that dress. Effie Trinket, in a spring green suit and sporting a pink wig, is warbling away at the microphone on the stage. Effie. Who was to become my escort and friend.

I watch as she hops over to the girl's reaping ball, and pulls out the name which I know is to be called.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

And suddenly, I can't watch anymore for fear of crying. I cover my eyes, but not my ears, so I can still hear. Hear myself scream Prim's name, before volunteering. I peek at the sphere to see Prim wrapping her arms around me.

"No, Katniss! No! You can't go!"

"Prim, let go,"

Then I look away again, not watching the sphere again. I finally takes my hands off my eyes when the hut goes silent, and I find the old woman staring at me intently.

"What are you looking at?!" I snap, angry at her for showing that memory. "Fine, you proved you can tell the past! Now I'm leaving!"

"But you can't," the old woman says. "You haven't seen my other special gift,"

Before I can say another word, she clasps the glass ball again with her filthy, wrinkled hands.

"But I don't want to-"

"This may take a while," the old woman interrupts. "This vision will be quite long. But I have to show you it, to show you what could have happened," She looks up at me. "Yes, my other gift is I can see what _could _have happened, if things were different. Again, I can only see what could have happened if I see the memory of the event that could change the future,"

That shuts me up, partly because I'm interested and partly because, yet again, I don't understand her science talk. I sit there, watching the grey mist swirl at a normal speed again, whilst the old woman talks to the sphere.

"Katniss Everdeen slash Mellark, murder of President Alma Coin!"


	4. This May Take a While

Chapter 4

This May Take a While

"Wait, what?" I say, shocked, but the old woman doesn't answer me. She stares at the ever-quickening swirling mist, her one eye glazing over. What does she mean, the murder of President Coin? It wasn't murder - well, maybe it was, but she was just as ready to have me executed at the snap of a finger. She was even relishing the idea.

"This may take a while," the old woman says, repeating her earlier words. "The memory,"

I look into the glass sphere, pondering what the outcome of the possibly not-killing of President Coin would be. Yes, because I kind of guessed that President Coin won't die. And I'm also guessing that President Snow will take her place in death. Then the picture in the ball forms.

I see myself, pointing my bow and arrow at President Snow, who is tied to a post. President Coin is standing on the balcony, surrounded by her guards. This is the moment, the moment where my prediction is confirmed. I know it.

I let the arrow fly and it hits President Snow, piercing his skin right where his stone cold heart is.


	5. Escape

Chapter 5

Escape

MELODY

I want to look away when I watch the arrow hit my grandfather, but I can't. I watch the blood red that covers his body as he slumps against the post, dead. Why am I watching this? Alone, in my bedroom, like it's a formal occasion?

There's an uproar in the crowd as people cheer, citizens of District 13 scream jubilantly. President Snow is dead, after years of ruling over Panem. I feel I should be upset, but I'm not - I barely new the man, let alone harbour any affections towards him. He was always shut up in his mansion, working with the Gamemakers on the next Hunger Games.

I'm not one of those all-out Hunger Games fans, like my friends. But I don't mind them. Sometimes they can become a little gruesome and I have to look away, but most of the time I manage with the blood and guts. Most of the time.

The T.V screen now shows Alma Coin, who I guess is going to be the next president. She praises Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, the Mockingjay, who has killed Snow, the enemy of District 13. She tells of good times to come, where districts and the Capitol become united as one. I'm waiting for her to mention the end of the Hunger Games, for this is what the whole rebellion was about. The downfall of the Hunger Games. My friends are going to be really disappointed.

I remember rooting for Katniss Everdeen during her first Games. That was before I knew the damage she was ultimately going to cause to the Capitol.

"Now," Coin says from her balcony. "These are times of rejoicing and celebration. But not all of us will have such luxuries. As we speak, the lists of every Capitol citizen under the aged eighteen or under is being examined. Furthermore, another list will be created, of all those between the ages of twelve and eighteen,"

Whilst she says this, her head surveys the whole crowd of people, who are confused. What is going on?

"May we remind you that these lists have the addresses of every child. We will give the families of these children, aged between twelve and eighteen, twenty-four hours to take their child or children to the presiden't mansion. If not every child is given up within these twenty-four hours, soldiers will be released to search the city. Every child who is found during this search, their families will be punished,"

People are beginning to murmur in the crowd. My eyes are glued to the screen. I am included in this age group, being fifteen years old. Where is this leading to?

"You may be asking what this is for," Coin continues. "Well, I shall tell you. As a reminder of the Capitol's infamous Games that have been forced upon the districts, twenty-four Capitol children are to be selected to compete in the last ever Hunger Games, the Seventy sixth Annual Games since the creation of this event,"

The whole crowd is silent, absorbing the news. Then, they erupt again into cheers, clasping each other on the back. I can tell what they must be thinking, how this Hunger Games will surely pay for seventy four years of twenty three childrens deaths. Then, what is it? Eighteen deaths during the seventy fifth Games?

This is bad. For me. For my friends. For every Capitol child over twelve.

The screen fills with a new, modernised seal of Panem, and I switch the T.V off.

"Melody!" That must be my mother calling. I wonder if she's going to take me straight up to the presiden't mansion and hand me over. Well, she's going to get a fight out of me. "Melody, come down now!"

I trudge out of my room and down the stairs as slow as a snail, my brain swirling. _She's going to hand me over, _I think. It makes sense, anyway. My mother was, and has always been, a supporter of my grandfather. Being his daughter and all. She's handed a few people over to the Peacekeepers for plotting against my grandfather. Her father.

"MELODY!" My mother screeches as I reach the bottom step. I swear, my eardrums bursted then.

"I'm here!" I shout back, walking into the living room. She sits there in her favorite armchair, twidling her thumbs uncomfortably in her lap, her gold contact lenses making her eyes hawk-like. My father stands at the mantlepiece, fiddling with a picture frame. I guess he was allowed to leave work early so he could witness the execution with his family. He frowns into the picture.

"Melody..." my mother begins, but I cut her off.

"When are we going?"

My father turns around, confused. "What?"

"When are we going to the president's mansion," I say as calmly as I can. "I know you're going to hand me over, so let's just go now,"

There's a painful silence. A very painful silence. My mother stares speechlessly at me, whilst my father's frown deepens.

"We would _never _hand you over," he says. "Never. But you are right about leaving - we're going to the safe house, where we can keep hidden as a family,"

I'm starstruck. This is most unlike my family. I glance at my mother, whose nodding at every word.

"The safe house?"

"The one we had constructed on the outskirts of the Capitol. It's underground, Melody, so they won't be able to find us. You'll be safe there,"

My father leaves the room as I turn to my mother. "But what about our things?"

"Oh, don't worry about them," my mother says, although I can tell she's pained about leaving her prized possessions behind. "Your safety is more important,"

"Come now!" I hear my father say from the hallway. My mother and I follow him out of the house, where our black car is waiting for us. My father waves off our servant and opens the doorway, climbing into the car, before I follow. It seems that it's only my father, my mother and me travelling in this car, as my mother shuts the door behind her. I guess the servants are getting into another car.

My father darkens the windows till they're pitch black whilst the car trudges along the road, so I can't see anything outside. But it's not for me to see outside - it's so people cannot see inside. Even though the soldiers won't come after us for another twenty three or so hours.

It takes a while to reach our safe house. When I leave I'm hit with the scent of nature, of trees and blossoms and other wonderful smells. You can only get these on the outskirts of the city - the centre and surrounding areas smell of technology. My father leads us to a rock face, before going to the side and pushing one of the rocks into the mound. It occurs to me that this mound must be artificial. The biggest rock slides to the side and, without another word, we enter the sloping tunnel.

We walk for a while, before it opens out into a room so like our hallway it shocks me. My father sees me staring.

"I had the whole safe house made to look like our hold house," he smiles. "So it's like we're home, if we ever needed to get out of the city,"

He shows me my bedroom, which is an exact replicar of the shape of my bedroom back home. The only difference is none of belongings are here. There are only empty shelves and my desk is bare, save a computer which is nothing like my other one. My bed is already made. Everything is spotless, so I guess father must pay a maid to clean this house as well.

I stay up the rest of the day and well into the night watching the T.V (which, like my computer, is a different type to the other one) with my family. All of my family's servants turn up. They remain silent, as usual, disappearing off into the kitchens, or wherever it is they go. My father told me the reason why they never spoke when I was around ten, although he didn't tell me what they were called. I learnt what they were called in school. Avoxes. I notice that one of our servants, the black-haired one, is missing. She's the only one of our servants that can talk, the only one that is not an Avox. When I ask my father about her, he shrugs his shoulders. It seems he didn't know her name as well, like me.

We have dinner at the usual time we do. Before and after dinner, we sit in front of the T.V.

At around seven in the evening an important annoucement comes on. The modern seal of Panem shows, before the screen switches to President Coin, who is standing in front of the president's mansion. My father sits up straight on the couch and leans slightly towards the T.V, which shows that he's interested.

"People of Panem!" Coin proclaims. "I bring you two important annoucements. Firstly, on the Seventy sixth Annual Hunger Games. So far, around half of the children of the Capitol aged over twelve have put themselves forward!" The screens switches to an earlier broadcast of a group of children being lead up the steps of the mansion by District 13 soldiers. I wonder where they're keeping them.

"However," Coin continues after the screen has switched back to her. "There is still another half to go. May we also remind you that the deadline before our soldiers are sent out is nine o'clock tomorrow morning. The Reaping will be held in the city centre at three o'clock in the afternoon. All children, and their families, found after three o'clock will be executed on the spot,"

"Nine o'clock in the morning!" My father shouts at the T.V. "That's hardly twenty four hours!"

"Hush, dear," My mother replies softly. Her eyes are glued to the screen.

"... Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark and the other victors have been arrested due to treason against Panem," Coin says. "All persons found in conspiracies against the government will be imprisoned. That is all,"

It's not until eleven o'clock that my mother ushers me off to bed. I lie awake, tossing and turning, thinking about the fate of me and my family if they are caught. If I am caught before three in the afternoon, I am guaranteed to be a tribute in the Hunger Games. Heck, they've probably already worked out my death in the arena. Being the granddaughter of a now-deceased hated president has it's downsides.

I don't get to sleep till around two in the morning. My dreams are plagued with nightmares of past tributes deaths in the Hunger Games, which I watched on T.V since I was little. Somewhere in my dream, Katniss Everdeen's first Games play in my mind, with the deaths of almost every tribute winding their way in and out of my brain. I never knew I remembered this much.

When I wake, it's ten in the morning. The soldiers would have been after me (not to mention other lost Capitol children) for an hour. Great.

Breakfast is waiting for me on the table. I sit and eat by myself, as I guess that my parents have already eaten. I go into the living room again after I've finished and got washed and dressed to see they are both watching the T.V closely. The screen is filled with live footage of the square, which shows some lost children being pushed up the steps to the mansion. Hopefully, I won't be one of those children.

It's occured to me that I'm probably one of the first children they've looked for. My death would benefit the country the most. I bet Coin is glad I didn't show up during the alloted time, since that gives her an excuse to kill my parents as well, important figures in the Capitol society.

My mother switches the T.V off at around noon. "Come on, lunch should be ready now,"

We all walk into the hallway together. That's when I'm starting to think that maybe I can evade the soldiers capture, maybe I will survive this reign of terror. They've had hours to find me, and they haven't yet. And this place is on the outskirts of the Capitol, under trees, rocks, grass and earth, buried underneath the ground where no one will find it. I still have a chance.

That is before the front door is blown clean off it's hinges.


	6. Capture

Chapter 6

Capture

The only thing I'm aware of is my mother's screams. And smoke. Lots and lots of smoke.

I double over, spluttering and retching, feeling sick to my stomach. _Please, _I think, _Let me die right here and now_.

Someone grabs my arm and pins it behind my back, twisting it into a painful position. I cry out in pain, as I'm forced upwards, up what I can only say is the tunnel. My mother does not stop screaming, and I can tell she's in front of me as her screams vibrate off the walls, back down into the demolished hallway. I don't know where my father is, and all I can see is smoke.

"Please!" I hear her scream. "Please, not my daughter! Not my daughter! Melody! MELODY!"

I want to shout back, to scream at the top of my lungs, to screech till I'm hoarse. But I can't. My airways are full of smoke, so thick I think I might suffocate. _Oh God, someone help me_!

I know we're near the entrance of the tunnel when the smoke thins enough for me to see daylight. The soldier pulls me out into the glorious sunshine, and I breathe in as much clean air as possible. The soldier is wearing a District 13 uniform completed with a gas mask, which is probably how he could see me and know how to get out. He twists my arm out of it's position so it doesn't pain me anymore.

My parents are already out in the sunshine. They're both struggling in the soldiers arms, trying desperately to escape. The soldier holding my mother has one hand clamped around her mouth to stop her screaming. Her eyes are wide and petrified. My father is around the same height as the soldier holding him, but he's locked in a tight headlock, and doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

Another soldier comes up to me, holding a PortaCom. It's a mini-type computer used by Capitol officials - they must have found the stock and learnt how to use them.

"Name?" he asks me. I consider lying, but what's the point? If I say a made up name it's bound to come up false - if it is a real name, then it should come up with a picture of it's bearer. This could only lead to more punishment for my family.

"Melody Upmire," I splutter, for I'm still trying to get my breath back. The soldier types it in to the PortaCom - sure enough, my name comes up accompanied with a picture of me. Below my name is some information about me, including my age, and at the bottom of the screen in red writing is the word "missing". The soldier quickly changes that to "found" with a few clicks.

"Well, President Coin will be pleased we found _you_," he says smugly. He slips the PortaCom into his pocket, just as the servants are brought up out of the tunnel. They're all making horrific garbling sounds, which are quickly silenced when the soldiers wrap their arms around their necks.

"Bring forward the prisoner," the soldier says. He must be the commander of them. Two more guards step forward with another figure in their grasp - our black haired servant. She looks severely beaten up, with a swollen lip, black eye and lots of cuts on her face. They throw her onto the floor.

"Prisoner?" she splutters. "Prisoner!"

The head commander strides up to her and grabs her neck. The black haired servant's face begins to turn purple.

"May I remind you," the commander says dangerously. "That you were caught fleeing trying to flee the city, and was put under arrest. You would have been killed already if you hadn't given up information about Miss Upmire's wereabouts," He lets go of her neck, and she slumps onto the floor. He then reaches for the gun in his pocket.

"Fortunately," he says, clicking the back into place. "You have helped us greatly, and for that you will not be tortured. Unfortunately, we have orders to execute traitors immediately," he holds the gun to the servant's head.

"Please," she coughs. I close my eyes before he fires, but I can still here the gunshot.

"Terribly sorry," I hear the soldier say, and I open my eyes. "But orders are orders,"

I try not to look at the blood that now stains the grass around the servants body. She faces me, and I can see her dead white skin, her glassy staring at me, although not seeing me. The black haired servant who'd worked at my house since I was little.

"What about the other servants?" One of the soldiers ask. It's the one that has the cook in his arms - the cook's eyes widen when she sees the gun.

"Don't kill them," The head commander says. "I'm sure they'd be put to good use in someone else's household. Lock them up in the truck-" he points to one of the two trucks. "-And put the girl's parents in there as well. Miss Upmire can join the others in the other truck,"

Others? What others? Before I can think about this question, I'm dragged over the dead servants body and stood in front of the truck. My parents and the other servants are each dragged to the other truck. I catch my mother's eye, and I say sorry in my head. Sorry for all the bad things I've said to her or done to her. For, I'm sure, this is the last time I'll ever see them again.

The truck belongs to the Capitol, for I saw the old seal on the side. These are the trucks used to transport prisoners, as I've seen them in the streets only to often. Once I'm thrown inside and the doors are shut, I'm in total darkness for a few moments, before the lights come on. Then I know what the head soldier meant by "others". There must be about twenty other Capitol children in this truck, all looking absolutely terrified. It's obvious that some of the younger ones have been crying, as their eyes are all swollen and red. Some of the older children have cuts and bruises from where they've been beaten up by soldiers. Probably for trying to escape. Some of their accessories have also fallen off.

Some of the faces recognize me and look frightful. I've been on T.V a handful of times and I do get recognized by some strangers in the street. Being Snow's granddaughter and all.

I sit next to a boy who must be around thirteen, since it's the only space left on the truck. His gold hair is tangled, and his eyes swim with tears. I can tell he's trying his hardest not to cry. No one speaks a word.

It's a long time till the truck finally stops. A few of the children look green, probably because they have travel sickness. Or it's their skin colour. I don't know. Some of the girls in my class back in school have green skin.

When they open the doors, I'm blinded by the sunlight once again. It takes me a few seconds to realize that I'm in the middle of the square - at first I don't recognize it, since there's a giant stage in front of me. This must be the Reaping stage. Once everyone is unloaded, they lead us around the stage towards the steps that lead up to the president's mansion.

Standing on the bottom step is a woman who I recognize immediately. Her grey hair falls in an unbroken sheet to her shoulders, her slush grey eyes survey over our group. Hatred fills me at the sight of her, and I want to lash out and injure her. But I know if I do that, I will only get a bullet through my head.

"President Coin," The head soldier is here (I guess he must have been driving the truck), and he bows at her feet. Her grey eyes watch him.

"Commander," she says. "This will be the last batch. Give the orders that all children found are to be killed immediately,"

"But, ma'am," the head soldier says. "It is not time for the Reaping yet. Shouldn't we-"

"An order is an order," Coin hisses. "Do as you are told. It's a shame we could only find three-quarters of the children,"

"As you wish. It should also please you that Melody Upmire has been captured,"

He grabs my arm and pulls me forward so I'm directly under her nose. Coin looks down, her eyes surveying me with disgust and hatred.

"Good. Put her in with the others,"

The head soldier pushes me back into the group of Capitol children. He then leads us past Coin and up the steps - I look up at one of the massive screens attached to the mansion and see myself looking up on the screen. Underneath me are the words "Snow's granddaughter has been captured", so the whole of Panem can see it.

Two soldiers are waiting at the giant marble doors, armed with portable metal detectors. One by one they scan us, probably checking that we have no bombs or knives on us. After each person is checked, they're ushered forward into the entrance hall.

I can see where they've been keeping the kids - beds litter the sides of the hall, lined in rows behind pillars, so only a small pathway is formed down the middle to the steps leading to the upper floors. All I can hear is the sound of voices, children chatting to one another shakingly, older siblings comforting younger ones. A soldier comes and takes my arm, leading me up the steps to the landing, where more beds are lined up. Children watch me pass, whispering to one another. The soldier takes me along many corridors with beds propped up against them until we reach a corridor that has no children in, just empty beds waiting to be used. He deposits me at the nearest bed.

"Wait here until you are called,"

I sit on the bed as he leaves, twiddling my thumbs like my mother does. My mother. I wonder if she's being tortured right now.

No Melody, don't think like that, otherwise you'll cry. And crying is a bad thing. If I learnt anything from watching previous Hunger Games, it's that crying is a sign of weakness. Of vulnerability. And I will not give the soldiers the satisfaction of that.

Slowly, the corridor fills with some of the other children I travelled here with. They're talking this time, in little groups, whispering to one another. Of course, no one bothers to start a conversation with me. I want to go home.

I lie back on the bed, counting the tiles that line the ceiling of the hallway, waiting for my death-call.


	7. A Very Special Reaping

Chapter 7

A Very Special Reaping

It doesn't take long for one of the soldiers to come back. The room goes silent when he enters the room, and he calls us to the Reaping. We follow him out of the mansion and into the main square.

The square is crowded with children, citizens of the districts and surviving parents of the children that could be reaped. Everyone is talking, the citizens excitedly, the children and parents solemnly. It seems this is a good day in the history of the districts in Panem. I look up at one of the screens as I'm queueing to sign in - it's filled with lots of cutscreens of children queueing and waiting for the Reaping to begin. Just like it was every other year of the Games.

Below, little messages come and fade of other important things going on in Panem. The most frequent one is the one about Katniss Everdeen and her allies are to be executed. Good. It's what she deserves, for inflicting this pain on all of us. I hate Katniss Everdeen so much, it scares me.

Once I've signed in, I'm herded to the middle of the waiting areas. I enter the roped of section for the fifteen year-old girls, jostling through the crowd of murmurs and whispers. Eyes follow my movement, lips mouth secrets to ears. I'm used to it, since it has been happening for the past two, possibly more, hours.

I'm scared. Petrified is a better word. When I'm scared, or petrified, or whatever word people use, I start to sing to myself to calm down - my mother says I've always loved music from the moment I was born. That's where I got my name from - Melody. My mother used to sing to me when I was little. She had the most beautiful voice - my father told me she used to be a singer when she was younger.

I begin to sing softly under my breath, so the girls on either side of me can't hear me. I sing a lullaby that's quite popular in the Capitol for calming down infants. But even singing doesn't seem to work. I look up at the screen to find the camera's are trained on me. Of course.

The cheering starts up, and I see President Coin mounting the stage. She dressed in a dull grey suit complete with black shoes, which is different from what she wore when I arrived here. It's weird - I'm used to seeing kids in horrible outfits lined up during the Reaping, not kids wearing stylish clothing and sporting brilliant hair styles (although some of them are tangled and look a little wrong). My red hair has still kept it's wavy style, which I'm glad of - I want to look good in front of the camera's. I scan the group of fifteen year-olds and see that none of my close friends are here.

Coin welcomes us to the Reaping of the 76th Annual Hunger Games, the Games to End all Games. She smiles horribly down at us, like we're her prey which is about to be gobbled up. She even says the catchphrase of the event: "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!", although it doesn't really have the same ring to it as when the usual escorts say it. We hear the anthem of Panem being played, which hasn't been modified in any way. Coin makes sure to miss out the Treaty of Treason, which I guess was burned as soon as District 13 took over.

Then she explains the rules of the new Games. First, she will call out the names of the twelve girls that will compete in the Games. The first girl called will belong to District 1, the second girl to District 2, and so on. Then, the twelve boys will be chosen, and the first boy chosen will belong to District 1, the second boy to District 2, and so on. Then, all the tributes will be transported to the Training Centre. She stops there, as to not 'give away the surprise' of what is going to happen next.

"Well, shall we start with the ladies then?" she says, before walking over to the girls' Reaping ball. She shifts around the ball a little, before taking out a name and opening it with steady hands.

"Anamaria Mitchell!"

A tall girl with midnight blue hair and turquoise sequins above her eyes walks from back of the waiting area, and mounts the stage firmly. Coin looks at her in disgust for a moment, before retaining her usual composure.

The Reapings carry on, and when it gets to the eleventh girl chosen I'm starting to regain hope. Maybe I won't be chosen - maybe I will survive. Maybe I won't be in the Hunger Games. After the eleventh girl mounts the stage, Coin digs around in the Reaping ball for a long time. And my heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach.

_She's looking for my name. She's going to read out my name._

When Coin pulls out a slip my suspicions are confirmed. I spot a red dot on the back of the slip that's can only be seen for a split second, before Coin's hand covers it. I'm sure none of the other slips had a red dot on them.

_Stay calm, Melody. Stay calm._

Coin opens the slip and says two words that shatter my hope into a thousand little pieces.

"Melody Upmire!"

As soon as my name is read out, the audience (not to mention the other kids) break out into a chorus of whispers. Melody Upmire? The granddaughter of the late President Snow? It can't be! The girls not chosen sigh in relief, since they're guranteed survival. This only makes the boys more agitated and fidgety, since no one is safe.

Me, I'm speechless. My legs don't want to move. I feel light-headed, like I'm going to topple over. Even though I expected it, it came as a shock. Coin looks up, scanning the crowd, looking angry.

"Melody Upmire, please step up to the stage!"

Hands reach me and push me along until I'm in the aisle, standing there like an awkward fish out of water. Coin glares at me, beckoning me up onto the stage. I'm about to follow her orders when a voice pipes up from the front.

"Wait! Wait! I volunteer as tribute!"

In that moment, relief floods me. Someone has volunteered for me! I'm saved! I get to live! But that disappears down the drain when I see who volunteered for me.

It's her. The girl. The one from my school. She's only around twelve, and tiny. I've seen her in the hallways of the school, looking up at me with bright eyes. Her dark skin shining in the sunlight. The girl whose always surrounded by other little girls, her friends. I've never given much thought to her, her being only a little girl in her first year at my school. But now... I'm touched to the core. And outraged. This girl cannot, no, will not die in the Hunger Games.

Coin looks like she's been slapped round the face. She stares at the girl in shock. She cannot comprehend that her plan, her genious plan, has been foiled by this one little girl. Then her face shifts and she glowers at the girl.

"No. Volunteers are not allowed,"

"Yes, they are," the girl says sternly. "They were in the other Games, so why not in these Games?"

Coin's nostrils flare. I can pratically see the steam come out of her ears, see the cogs inside her thick head trying to come up with a new plan. "Fine then," she spits. "If you want to save Miss Upmire so much, you can save her in the arena,"

She turns to the eleventh girl chosen, who looks up, afraid. "Go back down to your peers," Coin says, barely keeping her rage from exploding. "You have been replaced,"

The girl is so relieved that she nearly falls down the steps as she runs into the crowd, probably trying to find her parents. Anger fills me as I watch two soldiers grab the little girl who volunteered for me by her arms.

"No!" I shout. "Leave her alone! No!"

I charge at the soldiers, but I am caught midflight by another soldier. He picks me up and drags me onto the stage after the little girl. Coin takes her arm as the soldier holds me in place, leaving a gap between us and the tenth tribute. Coin speaks into the microphone.

"And, what's your name?"

"Hope," the girl says. "Hope Starlight,"

"Well, lets see if your name rings true, Hope Starlight, District Eleven," Coin says. The girl - Hope - stands in the gap between me and the tenth girl. The soldier lets go of me after I stop struggling. "And now, for the boys!"

Coin seems to rush through the boys names, probably because she's been warned through her earpiece that time is running out. Once they are all called, Coin makes us shake hands with our "district partners". The boy (I can't remember his name) who will be representing my partner from District 12 is handsome, with tanned skin and dark red hair, which is the opposite of my light red hair. His hands are sweaty, but I'm sure mine are as well. Coin then announces that all the tributes will have a surprise makeover that will be different to the other Games.

I can't help thinking of my parents whilst they lead us to the Remake Center. I have a gut feeling they're already dead, but I hope that if they are, they died quickly. How I wish I could have said goodbye to them, just one last time. It brings tears to my eyes thinking about them, but I hold them in as the camera's are trained on me again.

_Just one last time_.


	8. This Is a Makeover?

Chapter 8

This Is a Makeover?

O.K, I officially hate District 13 soldiers. The first sign that bad things were going to happen to me was when they strapped me down to the table where they will conduct my makeover. One small leather belt over my stomach. And that was after they stripped me naked, which is embarrassing and awkward since I am the self-conscious type. Luckily, the male soldiers didn't do any of the makeover - that was left to professional Capitol stylists.

First, they trim my eyebrows a little and plucked my eyelashes so they were all the same perfect, short length. Then, they blindfold me.

"What the-" I say, struggling against the bond that bounds me to the table. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"President Coin's orders," one of the stylists says. "You are not to see yourself until you're done,"

I hate it when someone takes away my vision, because then I feel vulnerable. I grip the sides of the table while they rub me down in different lotions which soothe and burn my skin. They spend ages on my hair, rubbing lotions into that too. They remove my nail extensions, and also shave most of the hair off my body (apart from the hair on my head, of course). It feels like hours till they finally stop working on me - then, I feel the starp around my stomach loosen until it no longer touches me. Someone gets a hand under my back and pushes me up into a seated position. Then, I hear footsteps leave the room. Then footsteps come back in. And the back of my blindfold is undone.

"When I take it off, look into the mirror," A male voice says harshly to me.

And he does. I'm looking at myself in the mirror. Then my eyes widen.

Because is that really me? It can't be! My hair... where's all the red gone? It's dark brown now. And my eyes... I swear, they used to be a turquoise blue, because now they're a hazel green. And where are the dots above my eyebrows?!

"My hair," Is the first thing I say. It's still wavy, although no longer red. "My hair... what dye did they use?"

"Dye?" I look up at the man, whose another soldier. He places the mirror next to me. "They didn't use any dye,"

"Then how is my hair this colour?"

The man frowns at me. "What colour did you think you're hair was?"

"Red, of course," I say, startled. Honestly, this man must be insane! My hair has always been red since birth! But it's the man that stares at me like I'm insane. Then he brings up a file that he must have been holding in his other hand, a file with my name written on the front. He flicks through it, before showing me a page of it.

It's a picture of me as a baby. Just after I was born, by the looks of it. I gasp. My hair... it's dark brown in the picture. And my eyes are hazel green as well. What is going on?!

"They must have dyed your hair not long after this photo was taken," the man says, a little softer. "All of the tributes' hair have been dyed at birth,"

"And my eyes?" I ask.

The soldier shrugs, clearly annoyed. "Permanent contact lenses? I don't have time for this! I'll go get your stylist," He places the file open on my lap, before walking out of the room. I repeatedly glance at the mirror, then at the picture of me in awe. Why didn't my parents tell me this?

The door slides open and I look up. Unfortunately, my stylist is a man. Fortunately, he is from the Capitol, which I can tell from his orange locks and tattooed swirls on his cheeks. Not to mention his long eyelashes. His grey eyes, which look so much like Coin's, drink me in. Next to him, I feel naked. Which I am. In his hand's is a blue robe which must be for me.

"O.K, Melody, can you stand up for me please," he asks, and I do. He walks around me, surveying every inch of my body, which makes me feel even more uncomfortable. I'm tempted to snatch the robe out of his hands and put it on, but I don't. He stands up straight again when he's done, and luckily he didn't touch me at all or I would have cracked.

"You can put this on now," he says, handing me the robe. I whip it on fast and sit back onto the table. My stylist puts a hand on my knee. "Oh, I almost forgot. My name's Chic, and will be your stylist for the Games,"

Chic. That's a funny name, even for the Capitol. Chic means stylish, right? Anyway, Chic takes the file off my lap and closes it, before placing it next to the mirror.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," he says. "I really am," And I'm grateful that someone actually understands how I feel. But I still don't know whether I like or dislike him. "So, the Opening Ceremony is tonight and we only have a few hours to get ready. Luckily, Taka and I have already designed the costumes for you and Gino, and we've measured you and all. So the costumes should be being made as we speak,"

"Gino?" I ask. I'm guessing that Taka is the other stylist, but I have no idea who Gino is.

"Gino," Chic says, slowly. "Your "district partner"," He does the quotation mark sign with his fingers around the phrase "district partner".

So that's his name. Gino. Huh. It sounds foreign to me - and somehow, I like it. Now I remember! Gino Kentham. The one whose older brother is also in the Games. I definitely can't remember his name. All I know is that they're brothers - or they just share the same surname.

Just then, the soldier who talked to me earlier walks in with a huge box in both hands. Chic claps his hands together and helps the soldier place the box on the table. I jump down and watch Chic take off the lid and pull out the costume.

It's so District 12, I have to say. I shabby T-shirt, with blue dungerees and, to top it all off, a coal miner's helmet and filthy hobnail boots. The only thing that's dirt free are the underwear and socks. The outfit is... I hate it! I'm from the Capitol, for goodness sake! I should be wearing outfits that sparkle, not outfits that make you want to throw up! Why did I get District 12? Why couldn't I have had District 1 or a district like that?

And now it hits me. This must be Coin's plan. To put me in the worst district so I get the least sponsors. So I'm most likely to die in the arena. Well, thank you _so_ much for limiting my chances! I can only think of one District 12 pair that actually dazzled at the Opening Ceremony, and they were on fire! Liturally.

I try not to hestitate whilst Chic helps me into my outfit, but it's hard. I'm starting to wish that President Coin would have just shot me in the head when she had the chance to.


	9. I Hate Horses

Chapter 9

I Hate Horses

The ground floor of the Remake Centre is basically a giant stable. When I enter the room after Chic, I gag at the sight - there must be around twenty four horses standing right in front of me. I hate horses. They smell, they're annoying, and they're noisy. This day just sank from terrible to unbearable.

Each horse is paired up, and attached to a chariot, which has enough room to stand two tributes in it. The horses range in colour from milky white to jet black - in my eyes, they're all hideous. All the other tributes are dressed up in district costumes, their stylists making last minute preperations - it's weird, seeing them without their coloured hair and sequins. Some of their hair colours are the complete opposite of what I imagined them to be - the girl whose meant to be from District 1, Anamaria I think her name was, has jet black hair that's been curled into a pretty fashion. If I'd had known that her blue hair was a dye, I'd have guessed her hair would have been blonde - well, seems like I would have been wrong. The boy who I think is meant to be from District 2 is sporting gelled ashy blonde hair. I would have guessed his hair would have been dark brown or black. It seems like I'm not a very good guesser.

Since the tribute parade is usually days after the Reapings, the stylists have plenty of time to design and measure up costumes. But since the Reapings and the parade are on the same day this year, the costumes are not usually up to Hunger Games standards. I'm sure the crowds wouldn't care less, them being all from District 13.

Chic leads me over to Gino Kentham, whose standing next to a woman wearing a pink wig and a multi-colored suit. This can only be Taka, his stylist - behind them are three people who are muttering quietly to themselves. They all obviously Capitol folk, and I think they're Gino's prep team - I turn, looking for the stylists who did my hair and all of that. I see them trooping over to us, looking a bit depressed. In fact, so far, all of the stylists and prep teams seem to look depressed, possibly because they have to work for Capitol children. The stylists and prep teams in previous Games seemed to be enjoying their work.

Gino gives me a reassuring smile. His red hair is gone, replaced with short, blonde hair. He's dressed in an identical outfit to mine, so we both look like we've just crawled through a giant pit of coal dust. But I have to admit - he does look a little attractive.

And then a thought springs to my mind. In whoever knows how long a time, this boy is going to be trying his hardest to kill me in the arena. So I must not show any weaknesses, I must not look like an easy meal to him. I've seen enough Hunger Games to understand this. So I don't return the smile, I only focus my gaze on the chariot, which is pulled by two black horses. I glance at Gino - he's looking at another boy, whose dressed in white robes and is holding a trident. He's in the middle of a conversation with what must be his stylist - he looks strikingly familiar to Gino, with the same dark brown eyes and blonde hair. I think that must be his brother - and, judging by his outfit, he seems to be representing District 4.

"O.K, time to board the chariots!" Taka says in a croaky voice. Chic takes my hand and helps me step up onto the chariot - even though I probably don't need his hand for support, I grip onto it tightly. To be honest, I'm scared the whole thing is going to fall apart.

Whilst the stylists are helping Gino up, I catch someone's eye - the girl from my school. Hope. She watches me with her brown eyes, her shoulder length frizzy black hair looking elegant. She's on the chariot next to mine, and her costume contains a blue, slightly tattered gown and a crown made of mahogany. In fact, she looks dazzling.

_It's a shame she'll have to die in the arena, _I think.

The stylists and prep teams disappear and the giant front doors of the ground floor begin to open. The torrent of cheers hits me like a tsunami - the "District 1 tributes" role out into the paved lane that leads up into the main square, followed closely by the chariot holding the "District 2 tributes". Soon, my chariot is rumbling along after the one holding Hope and her "district partner".

It's nighttime, although the street is lit up with illuminating lights, like it is in previous Hunger Games. In fact, they're like that every night! The stands are full with cheering citizens - both from District 13 and the Capitol. I guess they're the surviving parents of tributes that were not chosen. Suddenly, I'm angry - how arrogant they are, to still enjoy watching the deaths of their neighbours children!

Mixed in with the cheering is a chorus of booing, most likely coming from the 13 citizens. No one is throwing money or roses into the chariot's path like they've done in previous Games. I look up and see the screen is switching between shots of different chariots and shots of me - it's like I'm the star of the show. And I look terrible. I can just about hear Caesar Flickerman, the Hunger Games interviewer, frowning upon my costume.

In what seems like forever, the chariots file into the main square. I'm surprised at how quick Coin works - the stage and roped off areas for the tributes are all gone. Now, where is she... there she is! Standing up on the president's balcony, looking as hideous as ever. From here, it looks like she's changed her suit again to a boring black one. My chariot stops near the back of the group, which I'm glad of - but Coin can still see me, as she fixes her gaze on me.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" she calls into her microphone, looking up at the crowd. Then she looks down at us again. "Tributes! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favour!"

I don't hear the rest of her babble I'm focusing on trying not to throw up because of the horses. Even though these ones don't smell, I still gag when I see them. Plus, I think it might just be nerves.

Once Coin is finished, we parade around the main square, before disappearing into the ground floor of the Training Centre. I'm surprised it wasn't bombed to the ground when the Capitol was under seige, but here it is. I'd never thought I'd be sorry to see it still here.

Chic, Taka and the prep teams are waiting for us. They help Gino and I down from the chariots and give us hearty compliments, before sheperding us over to the elevators before anyone else can get there.

"Hurry, hurry now," Taka says. "Tomorrow, you get to meet your mentors!"

_Oh, such joy, _I think, rolling my eyes as the elevator zooms up. I see Gino smile to himself.


	10. The Mentors

Chapter 10

The Mentors

"Melody! Melody! Time to get up!"

O.K, mother! Just give me a little while longer, it is the weekend you know! But wait... why does my mother have a croaky voice? My eyes fly open, and I sit up. This isn't my bed back at home. Heck, this isn't my room. Where am I?

Oh yeah. I'm in the penthouse of the Training Centre. The suite rented to the District 12 girl. In other words, I'm in the Hunger Games. And both my parents are probably dead.

Taka bangs on the door some more. "Melody! Up, now! Breakfast is ready!" I groan and roll over. What time is it? I remember there was a clock face on the right-hand desk...

Eight o'clock in the morning! I never get up at this time! Even when it's a school day, and the starting time in nine o'clock. Oh, is there no end to my woes!

"Just a minute!" I shout back. I get up and walk into the ensuite bathroom, before pressing all the buttons in the shower to what I usually have. Luckily, this shower is like the one I have back home. Well, the one I had. Once I'm stripped off, I stay under the warm water, before towelling myself dry and putting on the clothes that someone has laid out on the desk in my room. They're a lot nicer than my costume for the parade by far.

I do what I can with my tangled hair and make the trek along the corridor to the dining room. Everyone is already seated, (except for the prep team, who I guess will be dining at their homes) leaving an empty seat next to Gino. I sit quietly, not even acknowledging his presence. Luckily for me, he doesn't look up from his breakfast.

It's as I'm pouring myself a glass of orange juice that I notice that we're joined at the table by two people I don't know. A man and a woman. No, wait... no... it can't be. Because I do know the woman, from a place that I always hated going to. That everyone hated going to. I put the orange juice back onto the table.

"Mrs Lanely?"

The woman looks up from her food, her orange curls wobbling. She smiles at me. "Hello, Melody, dear,"

Mrs Lanely was my old math teacher, who knew just about everything on the subject of the Hunger Games. Everyone knew that her father was originally from District 8, but immigrated to the Capitol to marry a businesswoman. The only reason he was allowed to move to the Capitol was because of his celebrity status - he was a victor of one of the Hunger Games! I remember, during Katniss Everdeen's first Games, Mrs Lanely let us watch the Games on the classroom's television. She was also my music teacher this year, since the old one dropped out.

The man puts down his knife and fork and reaches out his hand. "Alim Brosong," I shake his hand. "We will be your mentor's for the Games," His eyelashes are twice the normal length and his eyes are a startling purple. Probably the result of contact-lenses-gone-wrong.

I know mentors are meant to be previous winner's of the Games, but since all the victors are going to be dead soon, Capitol know-it-all's are the closest Coin can get. Well, I'm not complaining.

I take a bread roll and slice it open, before buttering it. To be honest, I'm not that hungry. "So, what tactics do you have to offer us?"

Out of the corner of my eye I see Gino look up. Both Mrs Lanely and Alim put their cutlery down.

"Well," Mrs Lanely begins. "Usually, the tributes would have three days of training in the basement before their private sessions with the Gamemakers. Also, the tributes would have private mentoring sessions with their mentors, either on their own or with their partner,"

"However," Alim continues. "President Coin has changed the rules slightly because of our... predicament. The good news is that you will receive six days of training with the other tributes instead of three, with the private sessions happening after lunch on the sixth day. The bad news is that there will be no mentoring sessions,"

If this is true, then I don't really see the point in our two mentors being here. But it's good to see someone I used to know well, so I don't kick up a fuss. I'm also glad we get six days instead of three, since I'm useless at using pretty much every weapon the Capitol has to offer.

"Why?" Gino asks. This is the first word I've heard him say - his voice is gentle and calm. Inviting. No, Melody. Remember - he's planning as many possible ways to try and kill you.

"Because of time," Mrs Lanely says. "It seems President Coin is a little rushed and stressed," She smirks, and a sudden surge of admiration for my mentor gushes through me.

"So, training starts today at ten - you shall meed your stylists by the elevators and be lead down into the basement by Chic and Taka at around five to. Your training clothes are waiting for you in your rooms. Don't be late!"

We finish breakfast with the constant chatter between the stylists and the mentors, before Gino and I head back to our rooms to get changed. The outfit I have to wear is a plain black top, trousers and shoes. Nothing special.

I head down to the elevators just before five to. Chic, Taka and Gino are waiting for me, and Taka presses the lift button impatiently when she sees me coming.

"What did Alim say about being late?"

"Sorry," Is all I can manage.

The lift drops down at a fast pace - it's a mirrored lift, so I can see the outside world from it. Oh, how I wish I was home with my parents. How I wish that I wasn't going to die in the Hunger Games.

All these thoughts are rushing through my mind as the elevator doors open.


	11. Welcome To Training

Chapter 11

Welcome To Training

The first thing that strikes me when I step out of the elevator is how many tributes are here. There are only eight of us here now - both the tributes from District's 1,2,3 and 7. It's ironic, since the tributes from District's 1 and 2 are meant to be extremely competitive, and also look big and fierce. The Capitol children that are meant to be from District's 1 and 2 look just that - big and fierce. I wonder if that's one of Coin's plans, to mimick the typical traits of district children.

Everyone's wearing unidentical outfits, which shows individuality. Something I like. I hear the lift doors closing as Chic and Taka zoom back up to the twelfth floor, whilst someone comes and pins the number "12" to my back. After the person does the same to Gino, my "district partner" leads me over to the "District 3 tributes" immediately.

"Melody," he says, and I'm surprised he remembered my name. Well, I am the granddaughter of the most feared president in the history of Panem. "This is Frederic, my older brother,"

Gino's brother - Frederic - gives me a sharp nod of his head, and I return it. I don't know what Gino's playing at, but whatever it is he's planning, I'm not fooling for it. I can't help noticing that Frederic has the same colour hair and eyes as Gino.

Slowly, the other tributes file into the gymnasium-styled basement. I can't help noticing the similarities between these Capitol children and past tributes from "their" districts. The tributes that are meant to be from District 4 are tanned and athletic, whilst the tributes that are meant to be from District 6 look small and a little sickly. Maybe Coin had pre-planned who the tributes were going to be, since the Capitol keeps a file of every citizen, detailing their traits and appearences. That would explain this.

After the last tributes have arrived, an athletic woman whose name I don't know calls us in. Since this event was not televised in the past, no one knew what happened during training. But now, I can see camera's mounted on walls, all turned towards us. I guess Coin has a different approach to the Games than my grandfather.

I look up whilst the woman explains the walls to us and see the Gamemaker's (no doubt all from District 13 now) watching us intently, sometimes turning away to take food off the banquet table. The Head Gamemaker is sitting in a plush velvet chair, twiddling his thumbs, and looking straight at me. It's last year's Head Gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee. No doubt he backed up Coin's idea of putting me in these Games.

After she's finished explaining each station, the athletic woman lets us go off. The tributes that are meant to be from District's 1 and 2 go straight for the menacing looking weapons, which proves my theory about Coin pre-planning the tributes. I also see the boy whose meant to be from District 4 and the girl from District 7 follow them. They're also both about ninety nine percent muscle. Great.

I end up at the knot-tying station with Gino. Frederic and his "district partner", who I learn is called Sheela, join us. Since it's pretty obvious that we're all crap at tying knots, the trainer spends a while teaching us all to do a basic knot. At the end of it I'm able to tie a decent knot, and the trainer smiles at me. Not happily though: a bit more pityingly.

The four of us move around from station to station, and by the end of the training day we've tried everything, from survival skills to knife throwing and archery. Turns out I'm a decent shot at archery, and Gino is good a weightlifting and spear throwing. Frederic turns out to be good at everything (which for some reason really gets under my skin), whilst Sheela is between mediocre and crap for everything. As I'm heading for the lifts with Gino, I notice Hope looking at me again. She's waiting by one of the lifts with her "district partner", a husky giant of a teenager who dominated in the wrestling. I noticed her looking at me during lunch (which is served in a hall of the gymnasium and is eaten with all the other tributes) as well. Gino follows my gaze and spots Hope.

"Looks like you've got an admirer," he teases, and I frown at him.

"Her name is Hope," I say indignantly. "And the reason she's staring at me is because we used to go to the same school!"

"Geez," Gino says, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I was only making a joke,"

"Well, it wasn't a very good one," I snap, sauntering into the now open lift. Gino follows, muttering to himself under his breath.

As the lift fills with people, I'm left to my thoughts. I don't know why I stood up for Hope. The little girl who used to go to the same school as me. Used to. I guess I feel like I've got to protect her, because she's the only familiar face in this godforsaken tower. And I feel like I owe her, for volunteering to replace me in the Games. Even though it cost her her life. And I hate owing people.

Training flies by in a blur. Sheela doesn't hang with us from day two, so it's just me, Gino and Frederic. I can tell that Frederic and I don't get on particularly well, since we've never had a proper conversation yet. But maybe that's just "Hunger Games nerves" getting to us. I doubt it.

It seems that Hope Starlight isn't the only person that watches me. Every time I look up at the Gamemaker's stands, I see the eyes of Plutarch Heavensbee watching me intently. Is it because of the granddaughter of the late President Snow? Or is it because he just hasn't taken a shine to me. My guess is both.

By day four everyone seems to have progressed, varying from very little to a lot. Since most, if not all, of the tributes had never touched a weapon, even a little progress for some people is a big step. My favorite station had to be the archery, which I've now learnt how to shoot moving targets. Gino has also mastered spear-throwing, so if it came down to me and him in the final two, then he'd be able to spear me at the same distance as I can shoot him. So it's pretty even.

The one's who dominate at using spears and knives and bows are the tributes that are meant to be from District's 1 and 2. They have seemed to hover around those stations, occasionally coming away to try survival skills and camouflage, but you can tell that weapons are their strong point. I've also seen the boy whose meant to be from District 4, and the girl from District 7 have been at their side all the time. I think their known as the Careers. The tributes from District's 1,2 and 4, sometimes adding exceptional fighters to their ranks. The one's that usually win the Games. Well, that's what I'll call them.

Gino and I are at the last station of day four, whilst Frederic is off on another station with some of the other tributes. Whilst Gino is taking his turn on the knife throwing station, I see him coming out of the corner of my eye. I'm surprised he's by himself, since he's usually surrounded by Anamaria and the others. The boy whose meant to be from District 2 stands next to me, watching Gino throw the knife. It lands right where the dummies heart is, and I see the trainer of the station clap. I'm a little uncomfortable with this boy standing next to me. I remember his hair was green at the Reaping - now, it's blonde and shining in the light.

"Not bad," he says when Gino comes over. My "district partner" is frowning slightly.

"Thanks,"

"Listen," the boy whose meant to be from District 2 says. "Me and some of the other's have an alliance formed for the Games. We've noticed that you are both exceptional fighters, and we'd like you to join," He glances over at Frederic, who's a few stations away. "You guys and your friend,"

To be honest, it's not a bad offer. Protection from six bodies of muscle, and not to mention Gino and Frederic. An offer that only a fool would turn away. But it's evidence from past Games that puts me off an alliance with the Careers. Alliances in the arena almost never work, and people turn on each other when the pressure gets to high. If I go with these people, then I'm at risk of being the first one they target when the alliance goes down. If I don't go with these people, I could be hunted from the moment I step off that pod at the beginning of the Games. But I still have a chance to hide. And I might just be able to evade the Careers' radar.

"So, what do you say?"

Before I can answer, Gino speaks. "No thanks. I think I'll do just fine by myself," Both of the boys turn to me, waiting for my answer.

I nod my head firmly in Gino's direction. "I'm with him,"

The boy whose meant to be from District 2 stares at us for a while. Then he shrugs. "Suit yourselves,"

I watch him strut back to his allies, knowing that I have just sealed my fate. I have a chance of hiding from these brutes, thus having a chance of survival. I'd probably have to take to the trees, and I'm not the best of climbers. I wonder if I'd made the right choice...

The athletic woman calls to everyone that it's the end of the training day, and there's a surge for the elevators. Gino and I walk together in silence, not bothering to immerse oursleves in coversations that other people seem to be creating.

And all this time, I'm thinking _Oh God, I just hope I can get away from the Cornucopia fast enough._


	12. Seriously?

Chapter 12

Seriously?

I don't tell the our mentors and stylists about the boy whose meant to be from District 2's offer till breakfast the next day.

"Did you accept it?" Alim asks. We both shake our heads. "Good. Pluto has a tendency to engage in violent fights,"

"Whose Pluto?" I ask.

"The boy from District 2," Mrs Lanely says. "The one who made the alliance offer,"

So that's his name. Pluto. Well, he is meant to be the god of death, of killing. And it seems like the tribute Pluto is a fierce opponent. If what Mrs Lanely said about him is true, then is parents are either fortune tellers who just good with names. I'm guessing Mrs Lanely and Alim must have read the file the Capitol keeps of him - if so, then other mentors must have access to other tributes files. That means that they all must know everything about me. I wonder if this is another part of Coin's scheme.

"Speaking of alliances," Alim continues. "Have you thought of any people you might team up with?"

One name pops into my mind and before I can stop myself it's tumbling from my mouth. "Hope Starlight,"

Everyone, including Chic and Taka, stares at me. Then, Gino says: "The little District Eleven girl?"

I nod, blushing. I have been thinking about alliances all night after the offer from Pluto, and only one person has sprung to mind. Hope. I wasn't meant to say it out loud, though.

"Fair enough," Mrs Lanely says, before turning to Gino. "And, how about you, dear?"

"Well, Frederic, obviously," Gino replies, before pausing. "Yeah. I guess that's it,"

"Hope Starlight and Frederic Kentham," Alim says, rolling the names around his tongue. "Not a bad choice..."

I can tell he's just saying that to not hurt my feelings. Of course they'll all think that Hope doesn't stand a chance in surviving the Hunger Games, but I don't care. I have a hunch that she'll turn out to be a threat in her own little way. I haven't been oblivious to the fact that they're all expecting me and Gino to team up, but that's not going to happen. As far as I'm concerned, I want nothing to do with him.

Once everyone is in the gymnasium, the athletic woman announces that tomorrow will be the day of the private sessions. The ones where we show our talents in front of the Gamemakers. I already know what I'm going to do for them - archery, a little spear throwing, maybe I'll tie a few knots. That should be enough to score me at least a seven. I guess that is what everyone in the Capitol is expecting me to do, since they probably all watch the live footage of us training for the Games.

Gino spends the morning chatting to some other tributes, leaving me to go around by myself since Frederic has no interest in joining me. It's whilst I'm queueing for the obstacle course that Gino catches up with me.

"Chatting up the other girls, I see," I say, not bothering to look at Gino. I focus on the medical staff member whose assessing the boy whose meant to be from District 6. It seems like he fell of the hadle bars section of the course.

I see Gino smirking out of the corner of my eye. "Rainée and Taylor seem nice,"

"Who are they?" I say, watching as the medical staff member helps the District 6 boy stand up. He must have twisted his ankle or something.

"Rainée is District 4, and Taylor is District 8,"

"Don't get too friendly with them," I say, ignoring Gino's raised eyebrows at the fact I'm bad at remembering names. "You might have to end up having to kill them in the arena,"

Before Gino can retort, the athletic woman calls us to lunch. I follow the crowd of tributes heading to lunch, Gino on my tail. I receive my tray without so much as glancing at Gino, and begin to serve myself some stew. Once I've collected everything I want, I begin to travel to the other side of the hall to my usual table. A lot of the tributes eat alone, accept for the Careers, who sit on a giant table near the centre of the room, chatting and laughing with each other.

As I'm passing their table, Pluto sticks out his foot and sends me flying. My food splatters all over the floor with a loud crash which makes the room go silent. I'm lying in a pile of stew, which sticks to my clothes and skin, bits of lamb in my hair. Pluto stands up in mock worry.

"Woops! I'm _so _sorry..." The other Careers laugh their heads off. I'm seething, and before I know what I'm doing I grab a handful of stew and jump up.

"What the _hell_ was that for!" I shout, ramming my stew-covered hand into Pluto's face. The force knocks him back onto his seat, and stew drips from his face onto his clothes, whilst he stares in shock.

"Shit!" he roars, jumping back up, his face contorted in rage. "You're so dead!"

I'm panting heavily, but I'm so full of anger and adrenaline that I don't think of running away. "Come on then! Think you're so tough, do you?"

It could have turned into a full out battle, if Gino and one of the other Career's hadn't grabbed Pluto by the arms, whilst two other girls hadn't grabbed my arms. Pluto may have been big, but Gino and the other Career seem to be able to hold him back. The two girls holding my arms seem to be struggling, but they hold on and it's clear I'm not going anywhere.

"Get him out of here," Gino says to the Career, who I think is meant to be from District 4. He nods, and begins to drag him out of the room, whilst Gino heads over to me. I'm breathing through my teeth, and I'm prepared to lash out if needed.

"It's alright, I can take her back," Gino says to the two girls.

"We'll go with you to the elevators," the brown-headed girl says. The blonde one stays silent.

"If you say so, Rainée,"

Gino waves off the Capitol attendants who swarm to try and intervene and he, Rainée and the blonde girl (who must be Taylor) drag me to the elevators. Before we leave the lunch hall, I spot Frederic smirking at me and I snap.

"What are _you_ laughing at?!" I shout at him, and his face contorts into a glare which shows he's ready to defend if I take him on. But I can't, since I have three people clinging onto me.

Rainée and Taylor finally let go of me when we reach the elevators, and Gino thanks them. I don't snap at them, since they haven't done anything to me, but I glare at them as they head back to the lunch hall. Gino guides me into the elevator and punches the button that will lead us to the District 12 floor, and we zoom up in silence. The stew is beginning to seep through my clothes, and it's disgusting. I want nothing more but to punch Pluto in the face as many times as I can, and I don't care about the consequences.

At the sound of the elevator doors opening, the mentors and stylists rush in to see what's wrong. Taka shrieks when she sees me in my stew-sodden clothes, and that sets me off.

"LET GO OF ME!" I scream at Gino, and he complies immediately. I then I turn on the others. "AND IF YOU'D ALL STOP STARING AT ME, I'D BE MUCH OBLIGED!" I then swear out loud, before running to my room, leaving the others staring at me in shock.

I don't hesitate to bolt the door of my room, before I sink down onto the sweet smelling carpet, cursing Pluto under my breath.

Seriously?


	13. Information

Chapter 13

Information

I awake with a start for what must be a billionth time during the night. God, I feel so guilty. Not for attacking Pluto - no, he deserved that. But for shouting at Gino and the others. I need to apologise to them. Now.

I roll over to face the clock and see that it's two in the morning. Today's the day we have our sessions in front of the Gamemakers. They'll probably be televised as well, not private.

I begin to sing under my breath. I've been singing every waking moment of the night. The same song. Over and over again. It's killing me.

After I'd bolted myself in my room, I'd must have taken a three-hour shower to try and get all the stew out of my hair. By the time I was done, someone must have unlocked the door (probably an Avox) and come in for my stew-covered clothes were gone, replaced with clean new ones. I shoved them on and debated with myself about whether I should leave and apologise. I decided not to. I didn't even leave my room for dinner, and while I was going to the bathroom someone slipped a tray of food into my room. I went to bed really early as well.

I sit up in my bed and slip my feet into soft slippers. I head over to my door and pull on the handle - it opens without problem, which means that someone unbolted it. I know I can't apologize now, since Gino and the others are probably all in bed, but I need to wander and get some fresh air.

When I enter the living room I'm surprised to see Gino sitting on the couch. He didn't hear or see me come in though, because he's on the couch facing away from me, and I must be quieter than I think. I smile to myself.

"Hey," I say, crossing over to the couch and sitting down next to him. He doesn't jump or flinch, which I'm grateful for.

"Hey," he replies, not looking at me.

"Can't sleep?" I ask.

"Yep,"

"Was that a 'yep' as in I can sleep, or a 'yep' as in I can't?"

He turns to me. "'Yep' as in I can't,"

"Oh," I laugh. "Me neither,"

There's an awkward silence. A very awkward silence. Go on, Melody. Apologize now. Before you wimp out of it.

"Listen," I say. "I'm really sorry I shouted at you. I was angry and upset at Pluto, but I didn't need to shout at you,"

"Nah, it's alright," he replies, pulling a small smile at me. "I would have done the same if it were me,"

I laugh again, this time relieved. "Thank goodness. I must have sounded like an ignorant bitch,"

That earns a chuckle. There's another awkward silence, and I'm thinking about leaving and going back to bed, since part of my mission was accomplished. But I feel like I can't just leave it there.

"It's funny," I say. "How I think I know you quite well, yet I don't even know your age or favorite color,"

"Well," Gino replies. "I'm fifteen years old. And my favorite color is red,"

"Like your hair was?"

He laughs again. "Yes. God, it scared the living daylights out of me when they told me my hair was actually blonde,"

I laugh with him, since I can relate to the whole color of hair mix up. I guess I'm not the only one who was shocked by that. "So, what about you?" he asks.

"Well, I'm fifteen years old as well, and my favorite color is gold," I say.

We spend what feels like ages telling each other about one another. I find out about Gino's likes and dislikes, what school he went to (and there are lots of schools in the Capitol), and lots of other things, whilst he finds out these things about me. I learn that he also has a sister called Tanja, and that Frederic is seventeen years old. Eventually, we reach the awkward subject of parents.

"Did your parents hand you over early or... late?" I ask quietly, since it's a sensitive subject for me. Gino's face saddens, and I can tell I've hit a touchy subject in him as well.

"Early," he replies. "My parents don't give a damn about me. Or Frederic. Or Tanja. In fact, they were honored to hand me and Frederic over to President Coin. They weren't the nicest of parents..."

"Did they hit you?" I ask, but then I realize that wasn't a very nice question to ask. "Sorry. It's none of my business,"

Gino looks depressed, which answers that question. He then looks up at me again. "So, how about your parents?"

That's when I choke up. Remembering my mother and father is painful. But Gino talked about his, so I feel I have to talk about mine. "My parents gave me to Coin late... they're... they're probably dead," I splutter. I feel like I'm going to cry. No, I must not. I must not show weakness.

"I'm so sorry," Gino bites his lip.

"No, it's fine. At least they're past suffering..." This is true, although they were probably tortured before they were executed. I don't want to think about them anymore.

"So... what about alliances?" I ask, although that's not the proper question I want to ask. And I can tell Gino registers my real question because of his answer.

"Do you think we should team up?"

I'm torn between saying yes or no. Part of me wants to team up with him, because I know that he can protect me if any danger threatens. No. That sounds selfish. I guess it's also because it gives me an excuse not to try and kill him. This brings me onto the other part of me - the part that doesn't want to team up. When the alliance breaks down (and I'm sure it will eventually) then I could never bring myself to kill Gino. I know to much about him... and I guess I feel attracted to him. Why did it take me this long to admit it?! I'm in love with my "district partner"!

I've decided. And this decision comes from my heart.

"Yes," I say. "I think we should team up,"

Gino nods. Sorted. I now have one ally. "And, what about other tributes?" He pauses. "You still want to team up with Hope Starlight?"

I knew he was going to say that. But teaming up with him (and admitting to myself that I'm in love with him) has given me a new type of confidence. "Yes. I want to team up with Hope,"

Gino smiles at me. Not a mean smile. A friendly smile. "Sure. I'm cool with that. If we can have Frederic in our alliance. Oh, and Rainée and Taylor too,"

Rainée and Taylor I'm fine with. I've seen them training, and they don't seem that bad. It's Frederic I have the problem with. To be honest, I dislike him. A lot. But, if I want this alliance with Gino to work, then I've got to agree with him.

"Sure," I say.

"Good," he replies. "We'll ask them tomorrow," He checks his wristwatch. "Correction, we'll ask them later today,"

I'll thank Rainée and Taylor during training today then. I bid Gino goodnight and an early good luck for the sessions with the Gamemakers, before heading back to my room, feeling a lot better than before. Heck, I'll hopefully be able to get a few more hours of sleep.

It just shows how good a little talk and exchange of information can be.


	14. How To Shoot An Arrow

Chapter 14

How To Shoot An Arrow

At breakfast, I make a full apology to everyone at the table for my outburst. They all seem to accept it.

"That's alright, sweetie," Mrs Lanely says. "We understand..."

No one else answers, they just smile at me, so I guess they've taken the apology well. I think they must have been told about what happened yesterday, and they have probably decided that technically it wasn't my fault. Anyway, I let the matter drop, but I guess Pluto will be trying a lot harder to kill me in the arena. Gino also mentions our preferences for new alliances, and they all seem to approve, which is good.

At training, the first thing Gino and I do is go over to Rainée and Taylor. I thank them, and they seem grateful, and Gino asks them about the alliance. They respond with enthusiasm, so I now have three people in my alliance. Frederic agrees to join our team, which makes four people. If Hope joins, then we'll have a big enough alliance to match the Careers.

"I'll talk to Hope by myself," I say to Gino, and he understands. Hope and I have a special connection... at least I think we do.

During lunch, I make sure to cross the room as far away from the Career table as possible. Pluto seems himself, although when he spots me he glares at me from across the room. In fact, all the Careers do this. Especially the girl whose meant to be from District 2. I noticed her in training - she's amazing at everything, but seems to specialize in archery. It seems like I've met my match.

Hope is sitting by herself as usual. I've seen her interact with other tributes, especially her giant "district partner", but usually she's by herself. She's stopped staring at me now, which is probably her losing interest in me.

I plop my tray on the table and she looks up, startled. Her brown eyes look fearful, but I have no interest in intimidating her.

"Mind if I join you?" I ask, and she nods. I sit down in the seat opposite her. I can see out of the corner of my eye Pluto and the others giving me strange looks, but I don't care. I can also see Gino, whose sitting with Rainée and Taylor, watching me.

"Hope," I say, and she seems surprised that I know her name. "Me and some of the others have started an alliance. We were wondering if you'd like to join us?"

She hesitates, nibbling on a bit of her bread. "You're not with the Careers, are you?"

"What? No, of course not," I say. "Me and my "district partner". And a few others. So, do you want to join?"

She watches me, and whilst she's doing this thoughts are racing through my mind. If it came down to it, I could not kill this girl. I could never. I would never. So why am I putting myself in the awkward position? It's the same reason as before, I suppose: I feel like I've got to protect her. That I owe her. And, like I said before, I hate owing people.

"O.K," she says, and I nod my head, before tucking into my lunch. I'm glad that she said yes, otherwise I would have felt guilty about the whole owing thing. Hope seems to relax around me now, and we engage in small talk whilst we eat. It's like we were meant to be friends.

Soon, the athletic woman walks in and says it's time for our sessions with the Gamemakers. She explains to us that we'll be called one by one, district by district, the boy first then the girl, to show off our skills. We have to say our name and then the district we are supposed to be from when we get there. When the Gamemakers say we can go, we're allowed to go back to our district floor. They'll score us between zero and twelve and these scores will be televised tonight. Simple as that.

Except it's not so simple. These scores are really important - low scoring tributes are portrayed as weak and vulnerable, and they never get any sponsors. However, they're also usually passed over by the Careers for stronger opponents. High scoring tributes get loads of sponsors, although they're always targeted first. I remember about one victor who used the scores to her advantage - Johanna Mason of District 7. She portrayed herself as weak when she got a really low score, and was passed up for stronger players, so she survived longer. Then she showed her true colours - how she could kill viciously and effectively. I can also only think of two tributes who ever got a twelve - Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. And they seemed to survive two Hunger Games.

One by one, the tributes are called into the gymnasium, not returning. Supposedly being from District 12, I am scheduled to go last. I sit with Hope in silence, and when she's finally called, Gino and I are the only tributes left. I get up and sit in the empty seat next to him.

"Nervous?" he asks.

"A little," I say, which is an understatement. I am extremely nervous.

"What did Hope say about the alliance?"

"She said yes,"

Before Gino can answer, his name is called. I wish him luck as he leaves, and then I'm on my own. It's a while before my name is called, and when it is I can feel myself shaking as I get up and enter the gymnasium.

All the stations have been set up for a tributes use. The Gamemakers are all in the stands, watching and waiting for me, a plate of food on Plutarch Heavensbee's lap. His face is impassive, although his eyes follow my every movement. I also notice that all the cameras along the walls are gone - I guess Coin has decided to stick to what usually happens during the sessions. Where no one knows what I did except me and the Gamemakers. And Gino, the mentors and stylists if I decided to tell them.

I step into the middle of the room. "Melody Upmire, District Twelve,"

I see all the Gamemakers nod, and I head straight over to the archery station, picking up a bow and an arrow when I get there.

O.K Melody. Step One: Load the arrow.

Step Two: Pull the arrow back.

Step Three: Aim for the dummies heart.

Step Four: Fire!

The arrow pierces the dummies hear and embeds itself there. I look up and see the Gamemakers, including Plutarch, nodding in approval. _And that's how to shoot an arrow, _I think. I press the button that I've seen the head trainer press loads of times before, and several more dummies spring up. I then press another button, and they begin to move. Then I begin to shoot. By the time I'm done, all five of the dummies have arrows lodged in their hearts or their heads. More nods of approval from the Gamemakers.

_I'm definitely getting a bow in the arena_.

I move onto spear throwing. I'm not as good at this than archery, but I still manage to hit the dummy from quite a distance. Not in it's heart, but it's still a good shot. I finish my session off with tying some knots, which I've gotten pretty good at. I manage to do a few complicated knots, and also use some of them to set traps, which seems to please the Gamemakers. When I stand to signal I'm done, Plutarch leans back in his seat.

"Thank you, Miss Upmire. You may go now,"

I nod, before heading towards the elevators. I was nervous for nothing - it was actually quite interesting. Fun, even. But what I have to remember is that it won't be dummies I'm shooting in the arena.


	15. Zero To Twelve

Chapter 15

Zero To Twelve

As soon as the elevator doors open, I am engulfed by the mentors and stylists.

"How was it?"

"What did you do?"

"Tell us all about it!"

I told them that a shot some arrows, threw some spears and did some knot tying. Nothing special, but they all tell me it's enough to get me a ten. Well, I'm just hoping I average a seven. Then, they all ask Gino what he did, which shows that they were probably waiting for me before he could spill the beans.

"I did some weightlifting, threw some knives and spears, and also did a little camouflage,"

A variety of skills. Good choice. I wasn't anything special at the camouflage station, since I always used to average mediocre grades in Art class back at school, but it seems like Gino is a really good painter. Or just a really good camouflager. Is that even a word? Well, I also averaged mediocre grades in English class, so who knows?!

I wish they had a singing station during training. But what could singing do in the arena? There's no such thing a singing someone to death. It just something I would have felt comfortable in - the only other comfortable thing I can think of is archery. At least that could kill someone in the arena.

The mentors tell Gino to expect a high grade as well, which is bad since if me or him end up getting, like, a two, then we'd be really disappointed. _Just hope for a seven Melody. _But a ten would be nice...

The televised announcement of the scores is on at around seven, and every person (except, of course, the Avox servants) is seated on a couch or leather recliner in front of the T.V. Caesar Flickerman sits at a desk on the screen, sporting a fiery red wig and sparkling red suit. He reads out the names of the tributes, then their scores, starting with the District 1 boy and ending with the District 12 girl, which is me.

Anamaria and her "district partner" both receive a nine, which is predictable. Careers always receive the highest scores. Even more predictably, Pluto and his "district partner" both receive ten's. I wonder what they showed them in training. Probably stayed on the weapons stations - maybe I should have done that. Oh well.

Most of the other tributes receive between mediocre and low scores. The other Careers, the boy whose meant to be from District 4, and the girl whose meant to be from District 7, receive a nine and an eight respectively. Frederic and Rainée both get an eight, whilst Taylor gets a seven. These are really good scores, and I'm starting to feel glad that they're in our alliance. I'm a little bit peeved at Frederic getting a high score, but I've got to learn to co-operate with him if I want this alliance to work. So far, I'm not doing a very good job.

I've got to watch out for Hope and see what score she gets. I'm estimating around a four, which is really good for her size. God, I hope she gets a four. The big boy whose her "district partner" gets a nine, which puts him in league with the District 1 Careers. I wonder if they've offered him a place in their ranks. Hopefully, if they did, he turned it down.

When Hope manages a seven, I'm really surprised a thrilled for her. That score is higher than lots of tributes who are much taller than her. I wonder how she got it.

"And now for District Twelve," Caesar Flickerman says, looking down at the pieces of paper he holds in his ring encrusted hands. "Gino Kentham, with a score of..." We all lean forward in our seats. "Eight,"

"An eight!" Mrs Lanely and Taka squeal. "Well done, Gino!"

I grin at him. I knew he was going to get a high score. My grin is wiped off my face when I hear Caesar clear his throat. Everyone sits down again and stares intently at the screen.

"And, finally, Melody Upmire, with a score of..." Oh, please be a seven. Please. Caesar looks down at his paper for a long time... just say the number! "Ten!"

A volcano could have erupted and you still wouldn't have been able to hear it over the screams and cheers. Ten! I got a ten! That means I have the joint highest score with Pluto and his "district partner"! Oh, they're going to be so angry, that a fifteen year old girl like me averaged the same score as them! Everyone's engulfing me in praise, and I'm sucking it all in, because I'm so happy.

And then it hits me like a wrecking ball. The real reason why they gave me a ten. Sure, my skills would have added to the reason, but skills alone could not have got me such a high score.

Coin. She has something to do with this. Yes. I know it. Because, now of my high training score, the others not in my alliance will stop at nothing to kill me. Mainly the Careers. Mainly Pluto.

Shit. I'm a gonner. But wait... I have Gino. And Frederic. And Hope. And Rainée and Taylor. I have an alliance that matches their's. So maybe I'm not dead... maybe I can survive. Well, until the alliance breaks down. Which it will.

The T.V screen switches to a video recording of an event that happened earlier today. I see Katniss Everdeen tied to a post, before a golden arrow pierces through her clothes. Right into her heart. Where she shot my grandfather last week. That event feels like aeons ago.

Underneath the screen, the words "Katniss Everdeen and other victors executed," can be seen. I stare at them in shock.

"Come on you guys, off to bed!" Mrs Lanely squeals, switching off the T.V. She probably watched the execution earlier whilst we were at our private sessions. "Tomorrow is the day of the interviews with Caesar Flickerman! Best not to be tired then!"

Katniss Everdeen is dead. Katniss Everdeen is dead. The Mockingjay is dead... Good. I'm pleased. Because I loathe her. Well, I used to loathe her. She's gone now. But I don't loathe her as much as I hate Coin. Who organized this whole execution of the girl on fire.

The interviews. Caesar Flickerman. My brain is struggling to absorb the new information. No. I can do this. I will stun them, I will radiate on that stage when they call me up. I will be the best tribute they've ever had. I'll show Pluto. I'll show the Careers. I'll show Coin.

I just hope my costume will not be another pair of dungarees.


	16. Mockingjay

Chapter 16

Mockingjay

Taka's banging at my door again, shouting at me to get up. I slept really well last night, full of determination to do well during the interviews. I'm not nervous at all. I feel like there's no need to be nervous.

Breakfast is a quiet affair, with only Mrs Lanely and Alim explaining to us what is going to happen. The interviews are going to take place tonight, on a stage constructed outside the president's mansion.

We're allowed to have the morning off, and Gino and I just sit in the living room watching T.V. Halfway through the morning, Mrs Lanely comes in with a box containing video tapes of past Hunger Games.

"You can watch them, see what tactics you can pick up," she says, before leaving.

Since we don't know what the arena is going to be like, we watch the Hunger Games' that have different arena's, including the 74th and 75th Annual Games. The only type of Hunger Games we don't bother to watch is the one with the snow arena - I remember those Games were really boring, as most of the tributes froze to death instead of getting killed in combat. I guess lots of Capitol citizens complained, since they changed the rules so every arena must have wood so tributes can start fires and keep warm. So I'm pretty sure an ice arena is out of the question.

It's weird, watching the tributes on the screen, since all of them are now dead. The weirdest Games are the ones I was alive to watch live - I try to think back to the time I was watching them, and what age I was. The most recent Games, like the 74th and 75th ones, I can remember reall well, but the ones when I was little I can scarcely remember. It's not long before Chic calls us to lunch.

After lunch, it's makeover time. My prep team (whose names I still don't know) usher me into my bedroom and get to work. They strip me of the hair that's starting to grow back on my body, whilst curling and braiding the hair on my head upwards. They rub me down in so many lotions I can't remember the names of all of them, before putting my make up on my face and painting my nails. I'm starting to look like my old self, but I know it won't last long. After the interviews I'll have to wash everything off for the Games.

It's about an hour till showtime when Chic walks in with my outfit. All the while he's opening the box I'm wishing that it's not another coal miners outfit. I remember in the last Games the tributes got to wear pretty dresses, and I hope Coin has stuck to that this year.

"I know you'll like it," Chic says, before pulling out my outfit.

I'm speechless. It's a long and black dress with fiery red sequins than shimmer whenever the dress is moved. Chic helps me into it, and I find it's backless and trails along the floor. It also comes with white shoes that stand out, but that only adds to the outfits glimmer. Chic then fits a black crown onto my head.

"What do you think?" he asks once I'm ready.

"I love it," I whisper. And it's true, because I do. I have never worn something more beautiful than this - this makes the coal outfit look awful in every single way. Boy, am I going to shine at the interviews.

"Come on, their waiting for us," Chic says, and he guides me towards the elevators.

Gino, Taka and the mentors are already there, as Chic said. Gino is dressed in a black suit that also shines with red sequins, and his hair is gelled back. We're identical, but I don't mind - it looks better this way. To show that we're in an alliance. And Gino looks extremely attractive. Taka and the mentors are also dressed up for the occasion.

Whilst the elevator is going down, Gino whispers: "Nice outfit,"

"Thanks," I say. "Your's is amazing as well,"

"Love the earrings and the crown," he replies, grinning. I touch one of the lightning bolts hanging from my ears, then the crown.

"Thank you. Love the sequins," I say, touching one of them and making the whole suit shimmer in red.

The elevator doors open and the mentors lead us backstage whilst the stylists head for their seats. They all get a special box to sit in, one for the stylists and another for the mentors. Mrs Lanely and Alim lead us to the back of the queue of tributes waiting to take to the stage. Most of the Careers are lined up at the front, since the line goes in district order, and I'm glad to see them glaring at me. In fact, lots of the tributes are staring enviously at my outfit. Some of them are staring admiringly at it, like Taylor and Hope, although I think their costumes look spectacular. Taylor is wearing a golden gown fit with gold high heels, whilst Hope is wearing a silk blue dress that is gathered at the waist. They both look stunning.

Mrs Lanely and Alim wish us luck, before leaving to take their seats. It's not long before the flood of stylists come backstage, and I'm confused. Why aren't they in their seats? Maybe they've come back to make final adjustments to our outfits.

"President Coin wants you two to wear these for the interviews," Chic says, fastening something to my dress. "And in the arena,"

I look at the other tributes. Their stylists are fastening stuff to their clothes, or slipping stuff onto their fingers or around their necks. These must be the tokens tributes are allowed to take in to the arena. I look at Gino, and I'm surprised to see him looking at me in shock.

What is going on?

I look down at my token, and then it hits me. First total and utter shock... then fury. Coin has stepped over the line. How can she make us wear this? This symbol of rebellion? Of Katniss Everdeen? The thing which started all of this pain and grief off. Hatred as I have never felt towards Coin boils through me.

I'm wearing a Mockingjay pin.


	17. Caesar Flickerman

Chapter 17

Caesar Flickerman

I want to rip this pin of my dress and throw it back into Chic's face. How can he be O.K with this? How can he?

Before I can do anything, all the stylists hurry away back to their seats and I can hear Caesar Flickerman greeting the crowd. I want to scream with anger. I think I might burst. I am just so furious that I can barely speak. But I must speak. I have an audience to wow.

"Give it up for the tributes of the Seventy sixth Annual Hunger Games!" I hear Caesar bellow to cheers and screams of adoration. Before I know it, I'm being hustled onto the stage, following the big boy whose meant to be from District 11, before sitting down in one of the plump white chairs that have been lined up in an arc. In the centre sits two chairs, one containing Caesar, whose laughing his head off. I squint in the light, which must not look very nice, but I don't care. I can just about see.

"Now, lets get the ball rolling!" Caesar shouts into his microphone, and the citizens of both District 13 and the Capitol bellow. "She's pretty, she's charming, she's everything any boy could have wanted. Give it up for our very own, Anamaria!"

I watch as Anamaria, her black hair flowing, takes the seat next to Caesar. She's wearing an emerald green dress that ripples around when she moves, and she's smiling and waving to the audience who cheer for her. You can tell she must be really popular with the crowd.

I notice Anamaria's wearing a blue gem ring whilst she speaks with Caesar. I look at her "district partner", the muscular boy with blonde hair... yes! He's wearing the same ring! And Pluto, whose sitting their looking as smug as can be... what's that pinned to his blue jacket? It's a little silver brick! And his "district partner"... yes, she's wearing it too! On her dress.

It seems that everyone has the same token as their district partner. I look at the big boy on my right, then at hope... they're both wearing grass necklaces. Alarm bells go off in my head. Where have I seen that necklace before... certainly not in the Capitol. But where?

I know. I've seen it on T.V. During a particular Hunger Games. Around the neck of a little girl from District 11... what was her name? Rue? Rue. That was it. Yes... Katniss Everdeen wore this wretched Mockingjay pin during those Games as well...

I now know what Coin's done. She's taken one of the tributes tokens that they wore during the 74th Annual Hunger Games, one token from each district... and made the tributes who were meant to be from the same district wear it. In these Games. Naturally, she'd chose the Mockingjay pin for me. The sign of my family's fall from power...

It is despicable. It is diabolical. It is something that I can see Coin doing. And she has. And I loathe her so much for it. I can see Hope in my mind... and Rue... and I see how much they look like each other. It's despicable.

By the time I'm tuned back into the interviews, Rainée is making her way back to her seat, and the Career boy from District 4 is going up for his interview. Caesar is doing the best he can to help everyone, but you can tell he's a bit depressed. Probably because it is Capitol children going to their deaths and not district children.

It's during the big boy's interview that I begin to get nervous. What am I going to say? What is Caesar going to ask? I just don't know. I haven't been paying attention to the past interviews. Oh God, what am I going to do?

A buzzer goes off, to signal the end of the big boy's interview. Caesar wishes him luck, and everyone cheers for him, before the boy takes his seat next to me.

"Now," Caesar says. "For District Twelve. We all know about this girl, having seen her on the television plenty of times. Give a warm welcome for the beautiful Melody Upmire!"

Aw, shucks Caesar. I get up and wobbly walk over to the centre of the stage, my heart pounding. Caesar stands and helps me take a seat before he gets down to business.

"How are you doing on this fine evening, Melody?" Caesar asks.

"Good, thank you," I say, before adding a dazzling smile out towards the audience. They clap and cheer, some even shouting my name.

"Good, good," Caesar leans back in his chair. "So, Melody, I love your dress!"

"I know! Isn't it amazing?!" I reply. "It's all thanks to my stylist, Chic,"

Caesar looks out into the stylist box. "Give us a little wave, Chic! But make sure you don't fall out of the box!" Everyone laughs at that, and Chic gives a flamboyant wave. "Ah, there we go! So, Melody," Caesar's face goes serious again. "Are you prepared for the Games?"

"Yes, I am, Caesar,"

"And do you think you can win the Games?"

"Of course. Although there is some serious competition out there, but nothing I can't handle," More laughter. They seem to be loving me.

"Indeed. Well, we seem to think you can win! How about that ten? Wow!" Everyone in the audience claps and woops, whilst Caesar does his signature laugh. I grin at the audience. "So, tell us, how did you get it?"

"Oh," I say, pausing. "Well, I don't think I can tell you that..." I say, and Caesar pulls a frowning face, whilst everyone makes a prolonged "aw".

"No worries," Caesar says, patting my knee. "We're all rooting for you, Melody," It's perfect timing as the buzzer goes off just then. "Well, I'm afraid that's your time up. Give your best wishes to the lovely Miss Melody Upmire!"

Caesar and I both stand as the crowd clap and scream adoration at us. Caesar grabs my hand and holds it up in the air whilst I try and pull the best smile I have ever done. Then, Caesar gives me a quick good luck kiss on the cheek, and I head back for my chair.

During Gino's interview I'm trying to slow my heart rate. That's it. Now the next thing to do is to be put into the arena. And fight against the other tributes. But I don't want to think about what's going to happen tomorrow - in fact, I want tomorrow to never come. All that anger and frustration has been drained out of me, I feel like I'm floating on air.

Once Gino's interview is over, Caesar bids the audience goodnight and we all head off the stage towards the elevators. Our stylists and mentors aren't there, so we head up alone in the elevator with only the other tributes to keep us company. Of course, no one talks, not even the tributes that are friends with each other. Everyone's thinking about tomorrow.

We're the last ones to be deposited at our floor, and not long after the stylists and mentors come up and congratulate us. There's a awkward feeling in the air, one of sadness too, as this is the last time we will see our mentors. Well, if we die in the arena...

I can tell Mrs Lanely is trying her hardest not to cry, but her eyes are watering. "Off to bed, you two. Tomorrow is a big day..." She then hugs Gino and I tightly before hurrying off. Alim hugs us both as well, and the sad look in his eyes nearly kills me. _Don't think about tomorrow, Melody_...

I take a long shower, scrubbing off all the make up and nail varnish before brushing my teeth and putting on my nightwear. I put my discarded dress in the draw, before turning to get into bed. I happen to catch the Mockingjay pin in my sight - it's lying discarded on the floor. Anger fills me again, and I want to throw it out of the window, but instead I chuck it in the draw along with my dress. Hopefully they won't find it till I'm in the arena.

I flop onto my matress, thinking that this might be my last time in a proper bed as I crawl under the covers.


	18. Fate

Chapter 18

Fate

I'm woken up by the light knocking on my door. Oh no, it's time. Time to go into the arena.

"Melody," I hear Chic say. "Time to get up,"

I get out of bed and pull on the clothes that are waiting for me on my bedside table. I don't bother brushing my teeth or anything, since I haven't had breakfast yet, and I go into the hallway. Chic is waiting for me, and he takes me up a flight of steps that I didn't know were there before.

"What about breakfast?" I ask as we go up. "And where are we going?"

"The hovercraft is picking us up from the roof. Breakfast will be served there, on the hovercarft," he replies as we break daylight. I never knew there was anything on the roof, but there is - a little garden exists, complete with windchimes that make tinkling noises in the wind. It's a shame I didn't know about this place, or I would have come up here - maybe we weren't allowed to know, so we wouldn't come up here. I have no clue as to why they want to stop people using this sancturary.

Gino and Taka aren't here, but the hovercraft materializes out of thin air above us. They must be already on the hovercraft, or they're getting on another one. Whatever the reason, I know I won't be seeing Gino until we're in the arena.

A ladder drops down from the hovercraft and I jump onto it. I'm immediately frozen into place, before the ladder lifts me up into the hovercraft. I'm still frozen in place, even when I'm fully in the hovercraft, as a woman in white overalls advances on me with a syringe. I guess that's why I was frozen - so I don't run away or jump of the ladder. I wonder if that's happened before.

"Hold still," The woman says, which is stupid as I can't move. She injects the syringe into my arm, and there's a sharp pain followed by the feeling of something being deposited inside my arm. Then she removes the needle and I'm unfrozen.

"What is that?" I ask whilst the ladder drops again down to collect Chic.

"Your tracker," the lady says, pocketing the syringe. "So we can keep track of your movements in the arena. Now, if you want to follow me, I'll show you where your breakfast is served,"

We wait for Chic to be unfrozen from the ladder, before we're taken to a room where a mountain of breakfast-food is served. I sit and, throughout the journey, I try to eat as much as I can because I know there is not so much food in the arena. But I'm too nervous to eat. Heck, I'm too nervous to even sing.

After about half an hour, the windows blacken. I look at them, confused.

"What's happening?" I ask, looking at Chic whose still eating. He swallows his mouthful of food.

"We must be flying over the arena," he says. "It's so you can't see what the arena looks like until your actually in it. Also, you're able to see the whole of the arena at this height, so it ruins the affect of not knowing how far you are from the borders,"

Huh. He seems to know what he's talking about.

Eventually, we stop and the woman comes back. She leads us to the ladder, and I grab onto it, and I am once again frozen into place. The ladder lowers me into a tube before I am unfrozen and I jump off. I must be in the catacombs underneath the arena. How cool, yet horrific at the same time.

I wait for Chic to come down, before he shows me to the Launch Room. Its brand new, and everything smells of fresh paint - this Launch Room is only going to be used by one tribute. Me.

I'm allowed to brush my teeth in the ensuite, go to the bathroom, do whatever. Then Chic takes the jacket of the peg and helps me into it. He then takes out my Mockingjay pin and fastens it to my jacket.

I look up at him, my eyes wide. "Please," I beg. He's got to know that the pin is poison to me. That it reminds me of bad times.

He doesn't answer straight away - he only looks deep into my eyes. "I'm sorry," he finally says, pulling me into a tight hug. "I'm sorry..."

When he lets go, I think about chucking it away once I get into the arena. But that will only get him into trouble. It will get everyone into trouble. And there has been enough trouble in Panem. So I vow to hold onto my token.

"Thirty seconds till launch," A cool woman's voice says. I turn and head towards the pod that will lift me into the arena. This is it. This is the moment. I'm shaking like a leaf, but I must not cry.

"Twenty seconds till launch,"

I turn around so I'm facing Chic. He looks at me sadly, but he also has a determined look in his eye. "You can do it, Melody," he says.

"Ten seconds till launch,"

"I hope," I whisper so only I can hear, and I nod as the glass closes around me. I look up and see daylight above me as the pod begins to vibrate. I wonder what the arena's going to be like. I begin to sing the lullaby under my breath, the one my mother used to sing to me, still looking up at the blue sky. I hope my parents are beyond pain.

I stay in this postion, my lips mouthing the words of the lullaby, staring up into the heavens, as the pod begins to rise up slowly.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	19. NOTE

**Hey peoples :D**

**This is a temporary note.**

**Thank you so much for reading this fanfiction. That's it - Part 1 of Melody's story is over. I'm writing the second part of the story as much as I can and I hope to update soon. Once again, thanks! :D**

**I'm sorry I finished on a cliffhanger, but I had to :) Another note: I am from the U.K, and this is an American story featuring American characters. I have tried to use as much American English as possible (e.g. writing realize instead of realise), and I'm sorry if I've strayed from that a little in the story. Please tell me and I shall correct it before FanFiction decides to delete the documents.**

**Thanks for reading :D if you've just skipped the whole story and read this, then GO BACK AND READ THE STORY. Please :)**

**I can confirm the second part of Melody's story will be called ****_To Play With Fire_****, which was originally the name of this story. Please please please continue reading that story once I update, it means so much to me! And please also write a review - I haven't got many of those at the mo. Thank you to jenjentheboscostick for writing reviews!**

**Hope to hear your views on this story! :D**

**hgwriter123**


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